Evan had picked up a nasty habit: sauntering by my cubicle every day to announce status reports (“Just two days away from yet another bencher.” “Just a day away from that bencher.” “Turning in the bencher”). The real punishment was Evan’s delivery-style, like that of an Agent Orange plane, dusting me with deathly updates without so much as a glance.

Just then, I remembered that Janet had ticked off exactly one zillion things to do for the judge in preparation of the sitting. Hot flash. “Hey, guys, don’t we need to do something for the judge?” Flash. “Some xeroxing or something?” Flash. I felt the beginnings of a mustache growing in. “Matthew. Evan. I can’t remember any of it. And Janet just told me the other day. Oh God!”

Evan sighed: “I took care of everything for the sitting. You guys owe me,” he said smiling.

“Thanks, Evan.” I forced myself to add, “In repayment, I am officially inviting you to lunch with Judge Adams’s law clerks today after the sitting. Oh, and Kate and Matthew, of course the two of you are invited, too.”

Since the Edict of No Lunch, I’d started bringing some form of a sandwich to work on most days and eating it in the bathroom (hereinafter “toilet lunch”). On the other days, I’d still venture out. Just like everything else she said and did, the judge only sometimes remembered the lunch ban.

“What?! Lunch with Judge Adams’s clerks? How did you get that?” Evan panted with excitement.

DING!

Suddenly the judge was standing before the four of us. She produced a toothy smile and boasted a new robust bun. “Hi, Kate—so nice to have you here!” she exclaimed, with a tinge of sincerity.

“Hi, Judge Friedman,” Kate replied softly, bowing her head.

Without looking at the rest of us, including the clerk who’d told her to bugger off, the judge ordered: “Now we need to get moving, people.” She clapped, like we were cattle, before heading to the torture chamber. The four of us followed her like the farm animals we’d become. She abruptly stopped in front of my cubicle, causing a most unfortunate rear-ending.

“What are you people doing?” she sneered, without turning around. “I didn’t mean right this second. We still have a half hour before argument starts.” With that, Her Highness dragged her uneven legs into her office and shut the door.